


A Needle in a Pile of Needles

by PuppiesRainbowsSadism



Series: fic a month challenge 2015 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Russian!Castiel - Freeform, genius!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppiesRainbowsSadism/pseuds/PuppiesRainbowsSadism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on an AU from an anon, and by Criminal Minds's Spencer Reid.</p><p>Sam is a genius. At the age of seventeen, he earned his first PhD, but feeling robbed of a normal experience, he decides to study abroad in Russia, completely starting over as an undeclared undergrad where no one knows who he is.</p><p>Castiel is a grad student and a volunteer in a university program that assigns friends to international students so they don't feel isolated. He is assigned to Sam, but more than that, he becomes his friend and tries to reject his feelings that are any more than platonic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Needle in a Pile of Needles

**Author's Note:**

> For the SPN Rare OTP Fic-a-Month Challenge. April: Crossover or inspired by another universe. Criminal Minds is one of my other obsessions, so I made Sam Spencer Reid. As usual, I'd like to expand on this when I have more time. For now, I just wanted to establish the verse.
> 
> Title from an episode of Criminal Minds.  
> MORGAN: I hate not having a plan. We're looking for a needle in a haystack.  
> REID: Actually, it's like we're looking for a needle in a pile of needles.  
> MORGAN: What?  
> REID: A needle would stand out in a haystack.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Я думаю, что я болен = I think I'm sick
> 
> На Английском = In English

“Я думаю, что я болен _._ ”

Dean looked up from his textbook to see Sam poking at his cereal, staring at it as if it held the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Dean almost didn’t understand his mumbled Russian, but he understood his tone just fine.

“На Английском, Sammy. What’s wrong?”

“I feel ill.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“My pulse is irregular at unpredictable times. My stomach is unsettled, and I feel nauseous. My body temperature is increasing, my palms sweat, and my hormones seem out of whack. I – “

“Okay, Web MD, I get the picture,” Dean smirked, sitting up and leaning towards Sam. “I know exactly what’s wrong with you.”

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. Dean would be offended if he weren’t familiar with his little brother’s quirks. “You do?”

“Yep, sure do. You’ve got a crush.”

Sam made a face. “I don’t think so.”

“I do. So who is it, Sammy? Who puts the butterflies in your stomach?”

Sam thought silently for a moment, his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Dean was trying to figure it out himself. Sam didn’t spend a whole lot of time with anyone else. Except maybe –

 _Oh_.

Dean might have to keep an eye on this one.

:::

Castiel hated himself a little.

They were supposed to be studying, dammit. Instead, he was watching Sam struggle through his Russian homework, his eyes fixed on the boy’s mouth. God, he was barely eighteen, but he wanted to kiss him breathless.

Sam studied his book in silence, and Castiel studied the wrinkles between his eyebrows, smothering the urge to smooth them out with his fingers.

“Can I speak in English for a bit?”

Castiel checked his watch, not really seeing the time. “Yes. I think we’re done with Russian for today.”

“Thank God,” Sam sighed, closing his book with an audible puff of air. “I forgot the English word for ‘please’ earlier.”

“That means you’re learning,” Castiel smiled softly. “They say immersion is the best way to learn a language.” He’d said that before. It seemed to reassure Sam when he was feeling overwhelmed.

God, Castiel really hated himself. This poor kid was miles away from home, stuck in a foreign country where he didn’t know the language. The last thing Castiel should be thinking about was Sam’s soft lips pressed against his. Besides, there was the whole age thing to account for, and . . . no. Just no.

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

“Of course,” Castiel answered easily, shaking himself from his thoughts.

“I know you’re like . . . my assigned friend. But do you actually like hanging out with me?”

Sam was referring to the program the university had in place for international students that paired them with a companion of sorts. It was supposed to be in response to the number of international students they lost because they felt isolated. It was kind of odd to assign friends, Castiel supposed, but he honestly did like spending time with Sam. They were only required to spend an hour a week together, but they found themselves spending most of their free time with each other. Even if Castiel felt like he deserved hell for what he felt for Sam, he wouldn’t trade their time together for the world.

“Yes, I do,” he answered with a small smile. “I enjoy your company very much.”

Sam’s enormous grin in response was more than worth the heartache.

“Hey,” Sam started, as if he didn’t already have Castiel’s full attention. “Wanna see a magic trick?”

Castiel tilted his head curiously. He didn’t know Sam was into magic. It seemed uncharacteristic, in a way, with how intellectually-driven he was. At the same time, it was just like Sam to be into something quirky like magic.

“Sure. I’ve never actually seen a magic trick before.”

Sam didn’t look surprised. “Well, this one’s simple,” he assured, rolling up his sleeves with practiced hands. And dammit, Castiel really should not be thinking about Sam’s hands. “I’m going to disappear. You have to find me.”

“That sounds more like hide and seek.”

Sam was pacing up his books and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Nope. It’s magic. Check your breast pocket.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow but reached into his shirt pocket, surprised when he felt something there. He looked down to see what looked like a business card, on which, in Sam’s handwriting, was written, “Café Monet, 8:00 Friday?”

When he looked back up, Sam was running out the door.

:::

“Are you sure people like magic?” Sam fidgeted nervously. It had been difficult enough to work up the nerve to slip the card into Castiel’s pocket, and now it was catching up to him.

                Dean shrugged. “Chicks dig it.”

                “Cas isn’t a chick.”

                “Magic is pretty cool if you’re good at it.”

                “I don’t know. . . . “

                “Sam,” Dean sighed, taking a seat beside his brother on the couch. “I’m already worried about this whole – _thing_. Stop making it more difficult.”

                Sam looked up at him then, confusion written plainly on his face. “Why’re you worried?”

                “Well, besides the fact that you’re socially retarded – “

                “Dean, that’s extremely offensive. Try ‘socially inept.’”

                “Yeah, okay. Point is, you’re a genius until it comes to the real world. And Cas’s a lot older -- ”

                “Only a few years.”

                “He’s a grad student, Sam. Will you stop interrupting? It doesn’t matter that you’re the boy genius or whatever, because you’re naïve and not from here, and he’s older and a native and can easily take advantage of you.”

                “He wouldn’t do that,” Sam dismissed easily.

                “Oh yeah? And how do you know that? This guy’s your assigned friend. Maybe it was just luck of the draw for him.

                Sam sighed. “Dean. Remember when I went to Stanford?”

                “Of course.”

                You sent me with a Taser, a can of pepper spray, and a beginners Krav Maga book. A book that you tested me on every weekend until I could pin you consistently. Even if Castiel were the kind of person to take advantage of me, I can handle him.”

                “Okay, but what if -- ?”

                “I’m not that easily manipulated, Dean,” Sam interrupted sternly. “You’re forgetting how many people have tried.”

                Dean considered it in silence, nodding slowly. A lot of people had tried to take advantage of Sam in the past. They seemed to forget that Sam was smarter than he looked when all they saw was a scrawny kid.

                But even he had to admit that Sam could physically take care of himself, and he had learned a lot, being in a whole different country.

                “Fine,” he surrendered. “What’s your next move?”

                Sam grinned from ear to ear. “I’m working on another trick.”


End file.
